


Best Laid Plans

by Jastiss



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Sexytimes, Proposals, not graphic, soft Gladio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 13:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jastiss/pseuds/Jastiss
Summary: Galdin Quay has been calling your name for some time, so you let Gladio know you'd like to head there for vacation.  He takes a surprising amount of glee in taking you there, which tips you off to something big happening.  The question is... what is that something?





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request on Tumblr a while ago. Anonymous requester asked for a proposal fic with optional NSFW. I split the difference and went softcore on it.

Something in the back of your mind tells you that something is up, but for the life of you, you can’t figure out what.

It’s not that you think it’s something bad, but Gladio is acting suspicious and that man is always as up-front as he can be.  You casually mentioned wanting to make a trip to Galdin Quay and his eyes lit up like the night sky, glittering with eagerness for a fleeting moment.  Your eyes narrowed, he grinned but no words were exchanged and the matter dropped.

Several weeks pass before you receive a text from him, bearing the message: “ _hey babe.  Managed to get a few days off for that_ _Galdin_ _trip you want.  Be ready in 30.”_

A smile takes over your face, your cheeks groaning at the intensity.  Of course he would do something like this for you; for all his intensity and gruffness as the Prince's Shield, a soft heart beats within him.  You quickly tap out a reply before making a dash to your closet, dragging out a large bag and stuffing it with a few days' worth of clothes, your bathing suit and toiletries.

By the time Gladio pulls up in Noct's car, you're sitting outside, letting the warm summer sun fall upon your face.  His grin is huge and goofy as he gestures for you to get in, briefly exiting the vehicle to grab your bag and stow it in the trunk.

"Ready to roll?" He asks, barely contained glee bubbling beneath the surface.

Seeing this, you eye him, but he only smiles wider.  "Hm.  Yes, let's go."

The drive to Galdin is pleasant, windows down, music playing, your love's hand on yours, stroking your knuckles with the utmost tenderness.  The heat of the day draws close a happy sort of haze, as if life were no more complicated than this moment.

As Gladio pulls in to a spot at your destination, his phone pings.  Purely on habit, you reach for it to read the text to him as you usually do, smiling to yourself upon seeing Prompto's name.  The smile turns to a confused purse as you read, " _what did she_ _say_ _?_ " on the screen.  You aren't aware that your mouth moves when you think to yourself _what did who say?_

"Oh, he's wondering what Crowe said after I kicked her ass in poker the other night," Gladio laughs, and immediately your lie detector goes off.  Still, you trust him and have no reason to believe it isn't something innocent.

"Do you want me to reply?" you inquire gently, not wanting to give yourself away.

"Nah, I'll get at him later."  He answers so smoothly, you begin to think you're wrong.  "Hey, go ahead and hit the beach.  I'll take our stuff inside and get all checked in."

It's something you can't argue with, the sea beckoning you with its siren song.  That in mind, you lean over to peck him on the cheek before exiting the car, swift feet carrying you toward baby fine white sand.  As your shoes cross over from pavement to sand, you kick them off, running into the water to walk barefoot in the shallows.  

A few minutes later, you bend to gather some crystalline water in your hands to dab your face with when a wolf whistle sounds behind you.  You straighten, throwing a half-hearted glare in your boyfriend's direction.

"Mm-mmm, nah babe, don't stop on my account," he grins.  You wave him away and he simply laughs.  "Hey, you wanna build a sandcastle?"

"A... sandcastle?" you parrot, caught off guard.  Of course your man child wants to build a sandcastle but honestly, embracing a simpler life is why you love him.  "Well, sure, but I'm not very good at it."

"I'll build it," he insists, excitement rolling off of him in waves.  "You can help.  It won't be that hard."

"If you say so," you laugh.  "Are you sure you know me?  It's going to be a disaster."

The two of you laugh easily, setting to work.  Gladio goes all out, building a sand castle complete with covered parapets, towers, a keep and a moat for aesthetic.  To your credit, you did help... get more wet sand for Gladio to work with.  All in all, the sandcastle is truly a masterpiece, prompting you to snap a photo of it.  You turn to stow your phone back in your bag, pivoting back to smile at your Shield, but your foot catches on a stray root beneath the sand, sending you tumbling into his masterwork.

For reasons unknown, he immediately begins scrambling, frantically digging through the sand for something.  Confused, you lean down to help.

"Oh, I'm good, Y/N," he assures, "you'll get sand under your nails and it'll be gross.  Why don't you head in and order us some drinks?  I've worked up a mighty thirst out here in this sun."

Now you're one hundred percent suspicious, looking around for some sort of candid cam about to catch Gladio pulling some prank on you.  Prompto was probably hiding somewhere, ready to catch your reaction.

"He's not there," Gladio chuckles.  "No pranks, baby girl.  How about those drinks?"

Curse his ability to read you so well.  Heaving a sigh, you push yourself off the sand, purposely shaking the excess on him with a smirk.  In retaliation, he slaps your ass on the way by, drawing a startled yelp from you and a glare that could freeze Ifrit's domain.

Inside, you order drinks for yourself and Gladio, pondering what sort of plot he has cooked up for the two of you.  Just because he wasn't planning a prank involving a cameraman to capture extremely unflattering photos of your precise reaction didn't mean something wasn't up.  Half of you reveled in playing detective.

A hand on your lower back draws you from your thoughts, looking up into the sweat-glazed face of Gladio.  He takes a drink of the water set out for him, but not before making some sort of peculiar hand gesture.  Perhaps he's feeling some sort of heat stroke.  As you make to mention this, you note that he's tracking sand all over the fancy bar area.

"Six, Gladio, you're a mess!" you giggle.  "Gods, let's get out of here and get you changed before you get us thrown out."

His booming laughter joins yours.  "Alright, alright.  Let me finish this water.  If you wanted me out of my clothes so badly, all you had to do was ask."

As you flush, he laughs again before taking a moment to finish his water.  You follow him to your suite on the south end, immediately drawn to the view of the ocean, bypassing a cart along the way.  As you throw open the door leading to the patio, a clink registers in the back of your mind, but it's overridden by your desire to see the endless expanse of lucid water.

"Well?" the Shield questions.

"It's so beautiful," you breathe. 

"I had them bring us some champagne, your favorite flowers, a few snacks and some chocolate..."

You're back at his side in a flash, the chocolate being unwrapped before he can finish his sentence.  "Mmm.  The chocolate is great.  The rest, I'm not really feeling.  Champagne is for celebrations!  We're just on vacation."

"Babe-"

"Besides, I need to eat before drinking, you should know what happens if I don't-"

"But-"

"I could just sit here and eat these chocolates and stare at the ocean for ages," you sigh.

"Y/N," Gladio calls, interrupting your train of thought.  

When you turn away from the view, you find Gladio on one knee, smiling up at you.  Chocolate falls to the floor.  Your breath hitches.  Tears spring to your eyes.

"If you don't want the champagne, I'd like it if you accepted what I put in it for you to find," he murmurs, holding out a hand to reveal a glittering ring, still wet from the drink.  "I've been trying to do this for a minute; I put the ring on that sandcastle and of course that didn't work out.  Almost lost the ring, too."

He laughs at himself while you remain rooted to the spot, shell-shocked into silence.

"Then I had them bring this stuff up here with the intent to drop it into your champagne and have you find it, but you wanted chocolate.  I should have known.  But it's alright.  We're here, I am _crazy about you_ , and I need to know if you'd do me the honor of being my wife."

Falling to your knees at his side, you take his face in your hands and plant a tearful kiss upon his lips.  "Six, Gladio, I would love nothing more."

He hurriedly wipes the ring dry on his sand-ruined tank before sliding it on your finger.  Fresh tears well up, threatening to fall when he drags you into his chest, lips meeting yours, pouring all of his joy into his actions.  One kiss becomes two, or five... you lose track, drowning in a sea of emotion and blossoming desire.

Gladio must be feeling the same way, as he slowly eases you onto your back, not bothering to get up and head for the plush bed above.  Not that you mind a bit, clutching at him, getting as close as possible, only pulling back from him for oxygen.

"Would ya look at that," he rumbles against your neck, lips trekking south.  "Clothes are covered in sand.  Guess we'll have to remove them."

"I'd wager that was your plan all along," you retort on a laugh that melts into a low moan as his hands explore your body.

Clothes find themselves on the floor at a languid pace, your love intent on taking his time, hand finding your wet heat and drawing delicious sounds from you as he works you to completion.  After a second release, you're anxious, gripping his arms and pulling him over to you, pleading for him to sink himself into you.

He's never been able to deny you, and today is no different.  The only difference is the languorous cant of his hips against yours, his groans of appreciation as his right hand weaves into your left, the other wound about your frame to drag you impossibly close.  

Gladio makes sure you find your fulfillment together, free hand teasing your flesh to bring you over the edge with him.

"Gods," you pant, wrapping your arms about his broad frame.  "I love you, Gladiolus Amicitia."

"Never get tired of hearing that," he says, a lazy smile on his face.  "Love you too, Y/N."


End file.
